


Wait, Wait, Wait!!

by Benben15, Panstick



Series: Mr Parker's Proposals [2]
Category: AUSTEN Jane - Works, Sanditon (TV 2019)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:14:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27088426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Benben15/pseuds/Benben15, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Panstick/pseuds/Panstick
Summary: Mr. Sidney Parker wasted several opportunities to propose to Miss Charlotte Heywood.We are here, hoping to fix some of Sidney’s lost chances.
Relationships: Charlotte Heywood/Sidney Parker
Series: Mr Parker's Proposals [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1965199
Comments: 54
Kudos: 147





	Wait, Wait, Wait!!

**Author's Note:**

> We cannot have been the only ones who yelled at the screen when Sidney let Charlotte walk away from him.
> 
> Thank you so much for your sweet comments and kudos at our first story together. We hope that you will enjoy this part too!
> 
> ❤❤❤
> 
> Benben15 & Panstick

It was a perfect day for the Regatta. The weather was on its best behavior with a bright sun, calm breezes, and the occasional pleasant sheen of clouds. However, there was not a sunny aspect to be found in Charlotte's mindset. She had hardly slept, kept awake by a turmoil of thoughts and emotions. To be true, it was one thought. The thought of Mr. Sidney Parker, and an uncomfortable but accurate mix of confusion and jealousy. The very first love, so strong it threatened to burn everything she thought she knew about the world to the ground. 

“Uncle Sidney’s here, and he’s brought a pretty lady with him.” Sweet Alicia had no idea how those words had torn through Charlotte. She knew who it was before she even looked. slowly peeking around the corner, there she was. Beautiful. She did not look almost 30. Refined, elegant, fashionable. Charlotte did not come out to meet her, merely hid behind in the shadows. The only person who saw her was Sidney. He looked, their eyes met, and then he just as quickly looked down and away. If she was in any question as to her feelings, the devastation she felt in seeing them together, in the hall at Trafalgar House, would have removed all doubt. They made a striking couple. That was yesterday. Today, Charlotte had no expectations of Sidney. In fact, she would have preferred avoiding him for the entirety of day. It was clear where his attachments lie. With Mrs. Campion. Now, her only thoughts were to survive one more morning and afternoon without revealing her heart and her true feelings. 

He had started to call her Charlotte when they were alone. At first her heart had taken it is a sign of endearment, a proof that their understanding had evolved from hostile to friendly at least. She felt that they had a confidentiality that she had never before experienced with any other man than her dear papa. But with Mrs. Campion hanging at his arm at every opportunity, and whose every word thrown at Charlotte’s direction was designed to make her feel small and insignificant, she was no longer sure that Sidney’s use of her christian name was a sign of affection. Instead it seemed a simple statement that he regarded her as one of the children. And why shouldn't he? She knew nothing about anything. Sidney was a man of the world, and Mrs. Campion a sophisticated woman of experience. Whereas Charlotte was a farmer’s girl from Willingden, where nothing ever happened.

How Charlotte, a naïve and inconsequential person, had been interesting enough to drag someone as sophisticated and important from London to Sanditon, was a mystery to her. It had been a monumental surprise to find that the lovely woman she had met at Mrs. Maudsley’s ball, had turned out to be a very great Lady, and dear friend of the Prince Regent. She had been so kind, so discreet and understanding. She hardly seemed like any of the ladies she had encountered in London, and hoped to avoid for the rest of the day. When she arrived in her elegant coach for the Regatta, and sought her out, Charlotte finally felt like she had an ally, and a confidante. Susan was the only person who knew of her feelings for Sidney, and had even been the person to make Charlotte aware of her own feelings, and what they meant. She had been so grateful to be able to link her arm with Susan’s and to take her on a tour of the Regatta tents and the river bank. 

Susan had really only wanted to talk quietly about “a certain gentleman” with Charlotte, and continue their conversation from the ball. It had been hard for Charlotte to say the words out loud. “I fear I was mistaken, I was not, I am not...” Attempting to deny and move forward. Hide what she knew was now branded in her. Heartbreak. That was what she had been feeling since watching Sidney and the love of his life reunite at the ball. 10 long years. Separated. She had only been a child at the time, she thought. They had been talking, she never took her eyes from him, he only glanced at the dance floor to see Charlotte watching and then looked away, like Charlotte had been intruding on a private moment as she watched them. No, they spoke like they had just seen each other the day before. It was easy, comfortable. 

The tragic “broken engagement” Mary and Tom had spoken to her about. Everything that had driven Sidney to his present agitated and aggravated state. Mrs. Campion was here, and she was again lovely, smiling, and available. How could Charlotte talk to Susan about that? “He is spoken-for,” was all Charlotte could muster as they walked through the path, winding through the grove of trees on it’s way to the river bank. Susan already knew, of course. She also knew that an engagement had not been made, and told her earnestly to not lose heart. Charlotte had already lost her heart, and knew it was too late. She was nobody, and Mrs. Campion was somebody. 

“You are not listening to me, Sidney!” Eliza batted her eyes, and sent him a sugary sweet smile in honor of the group of women in their party, not him. Her eyes were cold. Sidney had never felt so objectified before in his life. Reduced to a handsome ornament Eliza could hang her vanity on, and Tom saw fit to sell to the highest bidder. Of course, Sidney knew he was handsome, that he turned heads from the ladies of the Ton - and a few gentlemen as well. He took pride in keeping fit and dressing like the powerful gentleman he was, but he did not consider himself a dandy.

He had to admit though, that his vanity had taken a few punches because Charlotte never looked at him like that. She had never let her eyes wander over his body, and licked her lips as if she was imagining what he looked like undressed. Then again, she knew what he looked like naked - but that surely should have fueled her desire for him, should it not? He was after all built like a Greek god. Add to this, his dark, mysterious, and brooding nature, his wealth, and he was practically irresistible for any woman of marrying age. There were plenty of women who wanted to save him from his infamous broken heart. A romantic pet project. He sighed loudly and was immediately punished with an impatient squeeze from the blonde cold woman clinging to his arm. 

His mind wandered again. How mortified he was at her seeing him emerge from the water, naked and chilled. Her own frustration with him interrupting her walk along the shore. Then her, running from him as fast as she could. She was just a girl, inexperienced, but she never shied from him after that. It was more an air of defiance she gave to him. He saw her, walking only yards away. He had finally extricated himself from Eliza. He needed to think. Finding his brothers, Tom was more than enthusiastic at the prospect of his reuniting with Eliza. Arthur, always the more sensitive to feelings in others, cautioned against trusting her again. If he could leave them, it would only take him a few strides to catch up with Charlotte and talk to her.

Eliza had found a way to push herself into a conversation with Lady Susan, but before he could even make a move toward Charlotte, since she was finally alone, James Stringer was at her side. If he could just push that bloody Stringer out of the way. She never looked at Stringer the way she looked at him. There were never looks of disapproval, confusion or anger. Only softness, kindness and respect. God, that man was annoying in every sense. If Charlotte had been the one who always turned up when least expected, Stringer always turned up when least wanted. Like at this moment. 

Sidney tried to listen in on their conversation, but Eliza’s constant chatter nearby deafened any attempt. He was suddenly aware of the physical cut of Mr. Stringer. He was strong, of course, as a laborer. He was also tall, and younger than Sidney. If someone were to force him to answer a question in regards to the good looks of James Stringer, he would have to agree. His stomach seized suddenly, as his heart dropped and his temper flared. He was not used to feeling this way. Feeling trapped while thinking of Eliza, wanting to remove Stringer from influencing Charlotte. It was a series of conflicts he wasn’t sure he was ready to unravel, or resolve. His gut kept telling him otherwise.

Sidney watched as Eliza’s pack of sycophants talked with Lady Susan, and Charlotte was left to the attentions of James Stringer. They quickly walked down the hill away from the other group. On their own. He separated himself, from his brothers, managed to evade Eliza’s group, and walked along the river bank at a safe distance, watching the young pair. Stringer should not be walking with her unchaperoned. Sidney remembered that he himself had been less than honorable in regards to Miss Heywood. But he was a gentleman, and Stringer was not. He was watching them for her protection, or at least that was what he kept telling himself. 

Nothing untoward happened, in fact, Mr. Stringer _did_ behave like a perfect gentleman, perhaps even more than he had. Not perhaps, definitely better than he had. He had behaved terribly with Miss Heywood. She had challenged him in every respect, and in every part of his life, and he returned the criticisms more than once. But London. London had changed things. At least from his perspective. They must have changed for her as well, he thought. He had to find out. He needed to talk with her, soon. He felt lost without her guidance. Her opinion suddenly felt very important to him. When he had followed her advice, whether he had asked for it or not, things had turned out for the better. She was the only person who’s counsel he wanted now. When would Stringer finally leave her alone?!

Sidney watched as Stringer left, at long last. Charlotte was at the starting line for the gentlemen’s boat race, moving pairs of oars closer to the bank, and making sure everything was prepared. He wasn’t sure why Stringer had left, but he didn’t care. He stood for a while and watched her, this was his chance. He had seen her first on the beach with the children. Here, her bright blue spencer had been left folded on the small table, and she was in her simple white muslin dress. She wasn’t one of the London Beau Monde. She was beautiful without any of that finery and feathers. He came out of his hiding place among the reeds on the bank. His feet carried him closer to her, when she started to move oars closer to the boats. 

He cleared his throat to announce his presence, as he wiggled out of his jacket and placed it carefully over hers on the table, as if it were an embrace. When she saw him, she was practically cold. “It’s a little over an hour until the race, Mr. Parker. I’m letting all the competitors know.” That was all she said, nothing cordial, no other greeting, not even one of her typical smiles that showed her dimples to the finest. She seemed distant, perhaps busy, or distracted. He needed to find a way to talk with her. 

“Well Miss Heywood, do I look ready to you?” He even flourished his hands out to his sides, inviting her to look. Perhaps he could get her attention that way, get her to look at him, jacket removed, and his own figure on display. It was vain of him, but he was desperate to get a reaction from her, and the poor attempt died a swift death at her reply. 

“I’m no expert.” She replied coolly, as she focused on the oars and not him.

Realizing her dismissal of his question, and her practically ignoring him, only made him more introspective. He couldn’t even get her attention and suddenly he felt insecure. “Neither am I, regrettably. I haven’t picked up an oar in years.” She gave some generic words of encouragement, and he realized he could only mumble something in return. Picking up a set of the oars, he walked to one of the boats moored to the bank.

He suddenly had a thought as he stepped into the boat. She was walking down the bank, with another set of oars. To himself mostly, he said, “A man cannot step into the same river twice.” Even when talking to himself he needed her participation. He looked up at her as she was near him handing the oars she had into the boat. “You ever heard that?” He asked.

“For he is not the same man, and it is not the same river. It’s Heraclitus,” she answered with a small smile. His heart jumped, the mere curl of the corner of her lips gave his confidence a much needed little boost.

“Yes, of course you’d know that,” he thought that she would never stop surprising him if he let her. He wasn’t sure what came over him. The only thought he had was improper, and inappropriate, but he didn’t care, and acted on impulse. He extended his arm toward her as he looked away. He needed to look away. “I need another person to balance the boat, do you mind?” Don’t say no, he thought. She protested, or started to before he gently encouraged her to help him, reaching his hand further towards her. “Come on,” he added with a small smile, finally catching her eyes. He knew if he could get her to look at him, he could get what he wanted. 

Not knowing what possessed her, she took his hand. She knew better, but as there were plenty of people around, nothing inappropriate could happen. Not that she was expecting it to. She did not expect the surge of feeling when the skin of her hand touched his. She jumped into the boat as properly as she could, and it rocked as she landed. He was holding her. Her hand still in his, and his other hand at her waist, it was like they were dancing again. He told her to sit down behind her, and clasped both of his hands around her hand that he was holding, to help her take her seat. She had to look away. Look at the banks of the river, the plants, the birds, anything but his dark eyes, or his strong hands as he turned the boat around paddling with one oar. Hoping that he could not hear her heart beating through her chest, above the placid sound of the oar blades cutting through the water’s surface.

Instead she turned her head into the wind, letting it brush her hair from her face, and cool the sensations she was having seated so closely to him. She tucked her knees to the side, hoping to avoid an accidental touch. She was sure that he had no inkling of the effect his presence had on her. If he did, he never would have sought this kind of intimacy. The two of them alone in a row boat. It only confirmed that he regarded her harmless, a child. Before she could stop herself, she let go of a resigned sigh. 

Finally, he felt like he could breathe. Away from the Beau Monde, away from the crush of people on the banks, away from his family. With Charlotte, he felt different. Safe. Thinking of everything that had transpired in the past week. The rescue of Georgiana, Charlotte was there almost every step of the way, the ball, the dance, the shock of seeing Eliza for the first time in 10 years. Things had ended in his favor, for once in his life. He should feel happy, should he not? Yet, he did not. When did he last feel happiness, joy? He was not sure. Selfishly, he sought guidance from the only person he could think of who would be able to untangle the confounding emotions that whirled inside him. 

“Can I ask you something Miss Heywood? Why is it, when I finally have a chance at happiness, can I not accept the fact?” 

In her characteristic shrewdness, she replied, “What is it you cannot accept?”

“That I was destined to live my life on my own. That I was ill-suited to marriage.” He finally replied, as he continued to row slowly.

“I don’t think anyone is ill-suited to marriage. Not even you. I think it all comes down to a matter of compatibility.” Her thoughts on this subject were long and deep. But she did her best to be precise. Cutting to the heart of the issue, even if it meant denying her own heart’s desire. She knew he was talking of Mrs. Campion, and not her. “...finally a chance at happiness,” she thought. 10 years waiting. Finally. The seven-letter word cleaved through her heart like an axe. 

“I suppose you’re right, Miss Heywood,” and he gave her a sideways smile. She always seemed to be right. The right answers, the right ideas, the right questions. He chuckled a little to himself, ‘Miss right,’ he thought. 

He needed to change the tone of the conversation. “Now, Miss Heywood, it is your turn to row.” He said it teasingly, but he was also serious. Her eyes grew wide as she looked at him protesting, she did not know how to row! “But I insist,” he said in his deeper tones, but with a smile in his eyes. She grew quiet, and followed his lead.

She did not have a choice. He had told her he needed someone to balance the boat, what did she expect? The long boat was designed for two rowers. She grew more frustrated, finding herself in this situation. With Sidney Parker. The man she now knew she loved. The man who had forced this on her, simply with his presence. She bit her top lip, and placed her hands on the oars, where his had been. She did not expect him to lay his own hands on top of hers as he gave her instructions and showed her the motions of the oars, and how they moved through the water. It was difficult. She had done many things on her parents’ farm, but this took a completely different type of strength. Physical, and mental, as she was also trying to not look at this man facing her. His knees near hers, his hands on hers. 

What was he thinking? All his thoughts of propriety, of gentlemanly behavior that he had been lacking in regards to Miss Heywood. Now he had placed his hands on top of hers! Surely there had to be another way to teach someone to row. Why had he done it? Why had he insisted that he teach her? He _was_ a vain and selfish man. He had pushed her away when he saw Eliza, and ignored her yesterday in his brother’s house. He had been parading with Eliza all day, but had been thinking of Charlotte. What was wrong with him? Her hands were so soft, so small under his own. He worked not to pinch her skin, and it was easier to look at the oars than to look at her. It was impossible to not move closer to her as the blades of the oars moved in and out of the water. 

She slipped in her white muslin dress, and slid on the plank she was seated on. His reflexes reacted before he could think. “Keep your back straight,” he said as he reached to show her the posture that would help support her. He was touching her, his hand covered most of her ribs on that side. The shock of touching her so openly, he looked at her, but she did not seem to mind, or she was too innocent to realize. He could only withdraw his hand slowly, once he had realized where it laid. His pulse quickened as he noticed that his thumb had extended upward, touching the side of her breast. As he moved his hand, it ran along the underside of her breast as he gently pulled away, but he did not regret it. He savored the softness of her. He could not help himself from allowing his hand to keep touching her as he ran his hand down her thigh, as he pulled away. Touching her lightly until he grasped the oar again. Very selfish man. 

He could not help but smile and laugh a little, at his own maneuver. He was behaving like an errant school boy, but she smiled at him in return. There was no scowl, or pout in anger, or even an indignant slap. She played none of those games. Just her wide intelligent eyes, looking at him, and he was hypnotized. For everything he thought he was doing to be close to her, he now thought that maybe he was the one who had been drawn in. The wind tumbling through her hair, her golden skin against her white dress. The reflection of the water in her eyes.They moved together, rowing as one. Each pull and push slowly brought them closer, and closer, leaning further and further into one another. The rhythm of their movement was intoxicating. One more, two more rows, and he would be close enough to her pink plump lips. He could kiss her. He _wanted_ to kiss her. He wanted _so much more_ than to kiss her.

“ **SIDNEY** !” It was Eliza from the bank, just opposite where they were in the boat. “They had been oblivious to her presence,” she thought! She had been watching them. Furious! Incensed that the young upstart who helped with the children, like a common nanny, was throwing herself at the man she had finally been reunited with. “She may have been doing so all summer!” She thought. No! that would not do! Sidney was hers, he had waited for her! They had been promised to each other, before that man Campion made a deal with her father. She had gone along with it. She had always wanted to be rich, and Campion would make her _very_ rich. It only made sense at the time. Now she was here, with all of Campion’s money, and the only thing she wanted could not be bought. “Well, I didn’t make it this far without learning a few things,” she thought to herself. Her eyes narrowed as her thin lips pinched even tighter. She certainly would not give up without a fight!

The spell had been broken. Charlotte heard Mrs. Campion call out, but refused to look at her. She could only look down as Sidney bolted up from his seat, leaving the oars in her hands alone. He had smiled and waved at her on the bank, turning his back on Charlotte. Why was she torturing herself? She now felt very small. No matter what Susan had said. He was still spoken for. No matter what her feelings were, she did not own his. It seemed to take a lifetime to reach the shore again, and once they did, she said nothing to him and jumped to the bank without his assistance. She saw Eliza and her entourage approaching, and moved up the hill in front of her, instead of taking the easy path in order to avoid them. At least she could blame the steep climb for her sudden breathlessness, and not Sidney Parker. She saw the tents in the distance, and slowly made her way back down in that direction, hoping to find a friendly face. It was easy to spot Lady Susan in her light green pelisse and bonnet in the crowd. That, and the crowd seemed to part as she walked through. She headed straight for Susan, and her experienced guidance. 

Again, Sidney watched Charlotte walk away from him. Again, Eliza dug her nails into his arm, claiming his attention and touch. It was getting tiresome. He felt very clever when he saw Susan standing in the refreshment tent, clearly the goal of Charlotte’s determined steps. He looked sideways at Eliza and said as softly as he could fake it, “You must be in need of refreshments, please allow me to escort you.” She had accepted eagerly before she realized the trap he had set. He couldn’t care less. Nor, that she almost had to run to keep up with his long strides. 

Charlotte was thanking Susan for coming to the Regatta, and received a witty remark about setting social cogs in motion. She had been down-playing her part in making the day a success, when Sidney and Eliza entered the tent. Susan’s wry smile should have made her more aware of the risk of drama walking in their direction. Eliza’s eyes shot daggers at Charlotte, and Susan leaned in. “I think we can safely say that we have found Mrs. Campion’s Achilles Heel.” 

“What is it?”, Charlotte was caught in a crossfire between Eliza’s warlike glare and Sidney’s confusing gaze. 

“You!” The second the word had left Susan’s lips, Sidney and Eliza stood before them. 

“May we join you? What is the topic of conversation?” As Eliza spoke, he took a half step back, wanting to watch Charlotte without poking the bear next to him. Susan turned the question into a challenge and Sidney immediately felt his plan backfire. 

“Miss Heywood and I were just discussing marriage.” She shot Sidney a look, lifting an elegant brow as if to say, ‘Your move, Mr. Parker!’ He swallowed and before he could do or say anything sensible, mayhem unfolded before him. 

“You’re of marrying age Miss Heywood, it must be much on your mind?” Eliza was setting her up. Or thought she was… 

“There seems to be little point in considering marriage until you find someone you wish to marry.” Charlotte said simply. Sidney thought she was the most sensible person in this conversation. 

“There must be a boy in your village who has caught your eye?” Eliza refused to not make her age and naivete an obvious flaw to everyone who could hear them. How could anyone want a simple country fool over herself! The comparison was ridiculously weighted in her favor, she thought. 

Sidney, however, felt his heart sink to his stomach. ‘Did she have someone at home?’ He had never asked, and felt suddenly sick. Certainly if she were already promised to someone, he would know about it! And if she wasn’t already promised…? The answer to this question instantly topped his list of priorities; Charlotte had to be unattached, un-promised and un-engaged because if she wasn’t… if she wasn’t, where would that put him? He had come to rely on her company, her wit, her guidance - even her reprimands, and he wanted to rely on all of those, and her...for the rest of his life! The conclusion of his train of thought struck him like lightning and his confusion disappeared. His anger towards Stringer made sense, and his dislike against the blonde, cold, infuriating woman next to him grew to a point, where he suddenly had to restrain himself from slapping her for her. 

Susan would not stand for such an insult, questioning this line of thinking to Mrs. Campion, who simply increased her condescension. “I just think it helps to share a common background, is all. She must find all our ‘London talk’ unspeakably tedious” She peered over the rim of her champagne glass, smiling at Lady Susan as she took a sip. Before the real point of her plan became apparent to everyone. “Don’t you agree, Sidney?” So informal an address, as if they already shared one mind and one opinion. Using his first name, asking more of a rhetorical question than wanting an answer. 

Sidney smiled at the ground, and looked at Miss Heywood. “I think Charlotte would rather be sat somewhere reading Heraclitus.” He smiled at her, it was a compliment he thought no one would miss. But he had overestimated the intelligence of the crowd around them, and Eliza pounced, having misinterpreted the entire encounter.

Laughing, she said, “Oh Sidney! You _are_ wicked! That will certainly not help her find a husband.” with a very self satisfied and triumphant grin she sipped again at her glass.

Eliza had attacked Charlotte at every turn and his attempt to support her crashed like a coastal thunderstorm. Charlotte sent him a look so full of hurt, that his heart, vanity and courage turned against him like the three musketeers. As she retreated from the battleground, her words explained how his ‘insult’ had devastated her. “You are quite right, Mrs. Campion. I am a farmer’s daughter who reads books. What could I possibly have in common with anyone here? Excuse me.” 

He watched with extreme regret as she placed her glass down on the table next to her, and when she looked back up, her eyes were shining with embarrassment and unspent tears. Then she left without another word or glance in his direction. Susan was glaring at Eliza, and if Eliza had been looking, she would have noticed that Sidney was doing the same. 

In his clipped tones, he said, “Excuse me ladies, I am needed elsewhere.” He bowed at Lady Susan, and barely glanced back at Eliza, avoiding her anticipated protests on his desertion. It hadn’t been a cut toward Eliza, as such, but when Susan saw the look on Sidney’s face, her glare turned into a satisfied smirk. When Susan, however, turned and joined a conversation with Lord Grasmere, leaving Eliza on her own, it could have been interpreted as one. Subtle for a cut, but significant in the eyes of the Beau Monde who had been gleefully watching the entire exchange, and the exits of the two people who were obviously close acquaintances. 

Sidney had no more time to lose. He retraced Charlotte’s footsteps, and saw her in the dressmakers’ tent, doing her best to hide the fact that she was wiping tears from her face.

“Miss Heywood.” He said it strongly enough just so that she could hear him. She spun to see him, realizing she had missed a tear, and wiped it quickly.

“Would you excuse me, the race is about to start.” And immediately turned again and started walking away. 

“Miss Heywood,” he said with urgency, and when she refused to acknowledge him, he added, “Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait! I only ask for a moment.” And then reached for her elbow as he took quick long strides to catch her. 

At his touch, she spun on him, the anger he was so familiar with in her face was now mixed with the tears from earlier. “Well?” She demanded, but more softly due to the crowds of people surrounding them, than forgiveness toward him.

“I hope you weren’t too offended by what Mrs. Campion said. It was only meant in jest.” He was trying to save himself by also trying to salvage the entire situation. 

“Is that all I am to you, a source of amusement?” The anger was back in full force and her tears had dried. She was incredulous at this man. how he turned with the breeze, depending on who he was talking with. It hardly seemed like the Sidney Parker she had met a month ago. She would not let him take advantage of her kindness anymore.

“No, of course not! You’re…” He could not believe his words were being understood in this way. How had he missed the mark again, so completely. Then he was wordless to explain what she was to him, how he really saw her. Especially as she looked at him with so much pain and disappointment. He deserved all of it, and more. “Forgive me,” was all he could muster.

“On the contrary, you have done me a great service. I am no longer in any doubt as to how you regard me.” She was defiant, and the message in the tent had been clear. She did not belong with them, or with him. She turned shaking her head as she walked away. 

Reaching for her arm again, he called for her. “Miss Heywood,” as he caught her arm for the second time.

Her patience for him was at an end. “What?! What is it you _want_ from me?” 

He couldn’t answer, the words would not come, there were people all around him.

“Please! Be kind enough to leave me alone.” She finally added in a low voice, and the anguish in her eyes could not be hidden as she turned again and stalked away as quickly as she could. Sidney looked around, apart from the vigilant stare from Stringer, no one seemed to take any interest in what had just transpired between Miss Heywood and himself. Stringer, however, had the anger of a whole crowd in his eyes. Sidney considered letting Stringer punch him - he deserved to be punished for his unkind and ungentlemanly behavior against Charlotte. But a glimpse of her white dress disappearing behind a tree made him reconsider. Propriety was already damned, and ignoring the warning look of Stringer, he went after her.

Out of breath he found her at the river bank by the starting line. Anger radiated from her small frame; her shoulders were tense, her hands balled into fists when they weren’t aggressively flipping through some papers or rearranging the few items on the small table. Sometimes she would wipe away a tear with the back of her hand. A branch under his foot snapped. She jerked and shot him a glance over her shoulder. 

“I told you to leave me alone, Mr. Parker. Please go.”

He could tell that she was trying to compose herself by taking deep fortifying breaths. He could not leave her. His feet were stuck to the ground. They would carry him closer to her but not away. 

“Charlotte, I... “

She held up her hand to stop him. “Please don’t! I’m tired of trying to fit in. I obviously don’t belong here. You don’t have to pretend to like me.”

“Charlotte, please. Please let me speak with you.” He was desperate, out of breath, and ready. 

She looked up with a forced defiant look in her face. 

“Don’t bother, Mr. Parker. I’ll be leaving Sanditon, and you, soon. Please return to Mrs. Campion, she must be wondering where you are.” She crossed her arms over her chest to put up a wall between them. His dark eyes were too intense and she regretted that she had not put her spencer back on. The defiance crumbled and her eyes dropped to the ground, unsure of the intensity of his gaze.

“Charlotte, I don’t care what Mrs. Campion is wondering about. In fact, what her mind usually cares about is for herself, alone! If anyone does not fit in here, it is me. You have been instrumental in the success of the Regatta. I know that Lady Worcester is here because of you, Mary told me.” His eyes were searching hers, looking to see if there was any response, any change in her with the things he had just said. He had so much more he wanted to say, but if she was still mad at him, it would never work.

She could feel his eyes on her but she determinedly looked at her feet. She hated being in love, he was right she was too naïve to compete in the world of the London Ton. Susan was wrong too, she may be in love with Sidney - but he was as much out of her reach as the moon. There was no use pretending otherwise. She felt betrayed by all of them, she was just an amusement to these people who had seen everything and knew everything, but had nothing sensible to do with their time. 

“I feel sorry for you, Mr. Parker. That you feel like you don’t fit in. The difference between you and me is that you have chosen not to, I haven’t. As for Mrs. Campion, you shouldn’t speak of her that way for my benefit. It is obvious that the two of you are very well suited for each other, don’t pretend otherwise on my account. Now, I’m really busy…” 

“No!” He barked louder than he intended to. She was going too far, thinking of herself in that way. She had been such a headstrong young woman when he met her, and one afternoon of being in the presence of the Beau Monde had her doubting herself. He had raised his voice before in frustration, but now, he took a breath and steadied himself. He hadn’t won many arguments against Miss Heywood, but he refused defeat in this one. He took a few steps towards her, and softened his voice. “Charlotte, in London, at the ball… I never got to finish what I was saying to you.” He paused and hoped she would listen. “I told you, that you were more than equal to any woman here. Not to doubt yourself. I meant it.” He turned his head to the side, trying to catch her eyes. “We were interrupted. It seems we are always interrupted…” and his voice trailed off a bit. He had taken off his hat, and laid on the small starter’s table, and took a few steps closer. “Charlotte, you are still more than equal to any woman here, any man here for that matter. You have made it all too clear to me, how unequal to you I am.”

Slowly, she raised her head to meet his eyes. Doing so, she felt oddly calm and reassured of her situation. “Thank you, Mr. Parker. But as you more than once have pointed out to me, being equal and being suited is not the same thing. And you are wrong. My experience comes from books and whatever insignificant thing that happens in Willingden. I am so out of my depth here, trying to understand how your world works and I am tired. You were right all along, Mr. Parker. You saw right through me at the first ball.” She straightened her back, and challenged him with her eyes. “I don’t know what you want from me, Mr. Parker. And I really don’t have the strength to try and find out. You are as elusive as the river behind us. Constantly changing the pace, dragging me underwater in your current. I can’t keep up with you. You may not feel like you fit in, but please stop taking it out on me.”

He stopped for a moment, trying to understand everything she had just said, but one thing had bothered him the most. “Insignificant?! How on earth can you say that what you have learned in Willingden is insignificant?” He was indignant. “Since you arrived in Sanditon, your influence has been nothing BUT significant! This Regatta was YOUR idea. The reason half of London is here today, was not only your idea, but made possible by your friendship with Lady Worcester!” He was practically yelling at her now, and that had usually ended badly for him, but he couldn’t help himself. “Was it insignificant when you helped me, or rather, made it _possible_ for me to find Georgiana? You didn’t learn that in Sanditon, or the short hours you were in London. What about helping Old Mr. Stringer, and Dr. Fuchs? That was who ' _you'_ were before you even came Sanditon!” He stopped to catch his breath, and tried to calm himself. 

Her defence was weakened by his words but her confusion was growing. The way he looked at her made no sense. He looked and sounded angry but his words were so kind. It made her mad with him. And with Susan. He just pointed out why she didn’t fit in and never would. She started where it hurt the most. “Friendship? I’m not friends with Lady Worcester. A friend would never encourage hope where there is none. A friend would never let a girl like me think that… “ She realized she was going down a dangerous path of confessing her love for him and she converted her mistake into anger and clipped at him. “You didn’t answer my question, Mr. Parker. Why are you here? What do you want from me?” She was almost trembling, the day had been so straining and for a rare moment in her life she felt more like fleeing than fighting. Desperate not to expose any more weakness to him, she kept his eyes locked, careful not to bite her lower lip. Instead she raised an eyebrow to underline her questions. Her heart was beating too fast and too loud. If this conversation didn’t end soon he would surely hear it. That would not do. 

“What do I wan… want from you Charlotte?” His breath failed him when he repeated her question. He tried to breathe, but it kept coming up shallow. “I… I want you to see you how I see you… I want you to know how special you really are. I know it’s what Lady Worcester sees in you too. I don’t know what she has been talking with you about, but she is not a woman who wastes her time on idle, and silly people.” He was skirting around the answer she really wanted, and deserved, he thought. He had to risk his vanity. Risk his own feelings if he was going to reach her.

“Charlotte, what I want from you… what I hope you might want too..” and he looked at her hoping she would give him some kind of sign that she was really hearing him. “I want whatever you are willing to give me, Charlotte.” He paused. “I want as much of you as I can have in my life.” Again, he looked at her, but she was waiting for him to finish. “I want to give you as much as you will take from me. Charlotte, please. No one has affected me in the way that you do. The way I spoke to you at the ball, on the balcony. I was angry, but I was angry because you barely seemed to know us, and yet you knew us better than we did ourselves. I was a brute, but only because I knew you were right.” He took a deep breath. “Up until just now, you have been right all along. But right now, you are wrong, Charlotte.” He hoped that might stir her. 

A deep frown emerged on her forehead. Now she bit her lower lip. What was he telling her? A treacherous tear was forming in the corner of her eye. Then her anger grew in strength. What a Banbury story of a cock and a bull. The tear wiggled loose of her eye, followed by an angry mob of more tears. “What I want from you, Mr. Parker? How much I want to give you? What you think I might want, too?” She was barking at him, the conundrum of a man. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Mr. Parker. I don’t understand what you are asking of me. What is it you are trying to tell me? Because you are not making any sense and I really have to get ready for the race - the teams will be here soon.”

She was infuriating. His mouth set and his eyes locked on to hers. “What I have been _trying_ to tell you…” He rubbed his right hand through his hair and set his left on his hip. His stance was more assertive than before, and she seemed to notice the shift. He took a deep huff of a breath. “Miss Heywood. I am simply trying to get you to see yourself as I see you.” He stopped and his face softened as she was looking at him now. “I look at you, or think of you, and all I can see is your tenacity. Your kindness, your creativity, your wit. How you look at others and see the better parts of them. Well, most other people, I feel I have some work to do in that department in your regard.” He added it as more of a deprecation of his own behavior. “Miss Heywood, Charlotte.” His eyes were searching her face. “I have found that I have learned much from you in our short acquaintance. I would like to say friendship, but you might not agree right now.” He paused. “I would actually like to say that it is more than friendship. In fact, Miss Heywood. I find that I cannot stop thinking of you. I cannot stop thinking of your intelligence, your many virtues, your beauty.” He was going to have to tell her everything. “Charlotte, I think you are the most beautiful woman I have ever known. The kindest, the most challenging and surprising woman who has ever pushed me. You have pushed me to be a better man, Charlotte. And I find that I do not want to go back to the way I was before I met you. I cannot. I followed you here, because I needed you to know of my… intense regard for you. My feelings for you cannot be repressed, I have tried since the very moment I first saw you. I have tried, and have failed most miserably. I am miserable without you.” His eyes grew sad at the thought, and his stance deflated. “I know I am not good enough for you, I know that I never will be, no matter how I might improve. But I also know that I cannot change my very dear feelings toward you.” He walked a little closer, “Please let me try to be worthy of you, Charlotte? Would you?” He reached for her hand. He knew that if she let him take it, there might be hope.

His words swirled around in her head, stirring up the very same emotions she had tried to suppress since Mrs. Campion’s arrival. Since he left her standing on the dance floor in London. Since Susan had told her that she was in love with the certain person standing in front of her, reaching out for her hand. Her heart was pounding inside her chest. His words made no sense to her. She must have misunderstood him. Did he love her? She was so befuddled and dumbfounded that she let him take her hand. The sensation of his warm skin against hers made her sway and she stumbled over her own feet. He steadied her with a firmer grip. When he started stroking the back of her hand, her thin veneer of a shield cracked and she let him in. Words escaped her. 

“You?...” He would have to fill out the blanks himself because nothing made sense to her anymore. When he didn’t answer she tried and failed again to form a sentence. “You…” Her frown deepened. She needed him to translate the true meaning of what he had said to her. Her heart would break beyond repair if she misunderstood him again. Assumptions had been the poison of their relationship and they had been yelling at each other a few heartbeats ago. Now he was holding her hand and had possibly told her that he loved her. But not in those words. She needed him to say the words. She needed to know if that was what he had meant. Because she needed him. 

He felt her hand relax in his, and clasped both of his hands around it now. He pulled her hand closer to his chest and looked in her eyes. He saw that she had opened to him, but he had not told her enough. He looked at her hand covered by his own, and without any other thought, kissed the top of her hand, and held it tighter. “Charlotte. Dearest Charlotte. I find that I am hopelessly in love with you. Hopelessly, and irreversibly in love with you. Only you.” He searched her eyes, her face, for any understanding of her own feelings for him. If she had any. He still held on to her hand. Now, he needed to know if she had room in her heart for him as well.

His words flushed through her body like fire, and when they hit her heart, her dam broke and new tears silently slid down her cheeks. She let go of a breath she had been holding on to for too long. It came out with such a force that it sounded like a small cry. She could feel his pulse racing through his touch. Was hers beating at the same neck-breaking pace? He had said the words. He loved her. Still confused, her first words were, “I don’t understand.” The shift in his eyes made her take a small step closer. “I…..but you went to her… and now you… My feelings for you are... “ Her normal stubborn confidence returned for long enough for her to be honest. “I’m in love with you too.” She wanted to say more, drag an explanation out of him. For now this would have to do but she hoped that he would read the doubt in her eyes and make it go away. Nothing on this day had made sense so far, and Charlotte was a woman of sense, a woman of logic, and there was none to be had. His declaration of love and his actions did not match, leaving her with the nagging feeling that this moment could be taken away from her. 

“You do? You love me?” He looked at her searching for confirmation as his pulse quickened. 

She nodded. Still frowning. Carefully examining his face. 

He laughed with happiness. She saw the way his face changed. He looked younger, suddenly. His eyes were hopeful and wide with possibilities. “You really mean that? I hoped but I wasn’t sure. I’ve been so… difficult.” He said shaking his head and looking remorseful. “Oh Charlotte, I hope this means you will give me a chance.”

Her frown softened and she stroked his cheek gently. It was more a soothing gesture than a caress. “A chance of what, exactly, Mr. Parker?” Her voice was soft and so low that the rippling sound of the river almost deafened it. 

With her hand on his cheek, his confidence started to return, and with it, his desire. His gentle smile belied some of his intentions. “Charlotte, I would think to ask you to allow me to court you. Formally. But as we have spent so much time together, alone in the carriage, traveling at night, and that incident at the cove....” He hoped she would see that this was him thinking of her for a very long time, and not just a cheeky way to lure her. “It would seem that I have been remiss, with my denial of my truer feelings.” He took a deep breath. “I would like to instead ask you to please take pity on this man before you, and consent to be my wife?”

She listened to his words but her focus was on his eyes and his lips. She trusted her instincts again, that he meant every word. That this was not just another whim on his part that would change again. His eyes confirmed his intentions, they were the truth witness. Words were deceptive, what she saw in his eyes was not. And she wanted to answer his proposal in the same truthful manner, and so she rose on her feet and kissed him softly on the lips. He had touched her before, also in ways she knew were not strictly appropriate. But this kiss. His lips felt so soft against hers. As if it was a place where they were meant to connect. Joining her delicate smoothness, with his rugged chiseled features. Her lips just grazed his stubble and it made her skin burn. It was just a chaste kiss, she didn’t know any better, but it was the most exquisite thing she had ever experienced. 

He inhaled her as she reached up to him with her lips. It was more than he could have hoped for in this moment. That was all he needed. He let go of her hand and wrapped his left arm around her waist pulling her to his body. A grip that only reinforced to her that he would never let her go. He embraced her lips with his own, and showed her that his love was hers for the taking. He clasped her cheek with his right hand and forced himself to pull away as he brushed her hair back away from her temple. He opened his eyes to look at her. Had she consented? Did this mean they were now engaged? “Charlotte, is that a ‘yes?’ Will you marry me?” They were mere inches apart with her held fast in his arms, but he still wanted to hear it. 

She looked at him. Mischief in her eyes. “Yes, it’s a yes. Yes, I will marry you. If you haven’t changed your mind again.”

He gave his crooked smile to her. “I might remind you, Miss Heywood, that I never changed my mind. It just took me too long to recognize what my heart really wanted.” His voice softened at the end and he drank in her eyes as he said it. He meant every word.

“Good to know, Sir, because I’m holding you to it. Someone has to protect your honor and make a decent man out of you. You have been terribly remiss in your behavior. I hope you don't usually prey on young women by emerging from the sea in nothing but what God has given you. Or teaching them how to row. Or chasing a carriage in the middle of the night."

She spoke in jest but Sidney was painfully reminded how lucky he was that she shied away from nothing. He had done nothing from the beginning of their acquaintance but to show himself from his worst side, and he was quite confident that she would continue to be the one who both got him into trouble, and the one to save him again. He was entirely in her power.

Sidney quietly laughed at her accurate assertions. “Yes, I daresay that I am a lost soul without your infinite wisdom, Miss Heywood.” He was teasing, but it was nothing but the truth. He was still holding her tightly to him, keeping the wind from blowing her hair over her face, unable to let her go.

“Miss Heywood, is it now? Not Charlotte? You continue to do things like a rogue and an outlier, Mr. Parker.” She teased.

He leaned closer now. “If I do, Miss Heywood, it is, I believe, because you like it.” He was whispering in her ear where he had brushed his fingers through her hair, and had kissed her jaw where it met her ear, and had started to kiss down her neck. 

“ _Sidney Parker_ !!” Mary had found them in their embrace, as she was also expected to help set up for the Gentlemen's race at the starting line. “Unhand Charlotte at _once_ ! Have you completely lost all your sense! What on _Earth_ do you think you are doing?!!” She was next to them now and pulled Charlotte out of his grasp. They were all 3 of them in shock.

“Mary, I…” Sidney started.

“Don’t ‘ _Mary_ ’ me, Sidney!” and Mary looked over at Charlotte, checking to see if she was OK. “Oh my dear, I am so sorry, I should have known better than to leave you with Sidney for too long.” She whirled back at him. “What ever has _possessed_ you Sidney?! What am I going to tell her parents? You have ruined her!!”

“Mary, _please_ ,” Charlotte was trying to interrupt, but Mary was not having that.

She had placed both her hands on Charlotte’s upper arms and was looking her in the eyes to see how bad things had gotten. “Are you well? Has this happened before? Please tell me Charlotte. I am truly shocked at his behavior towards you!” She spun to look at Sidney again. “For heaven’s sake Sidney, she is a gentleman’s daughter, not a saloon girl!”

At that, he knew he had to put a stop to it. “MARY! Please listen!” She had finally stopped berating him for a moment. “Charlotte…Miss Heywood and I... That is, I have asked Charlotte to _marry_ me, and she has said yes.” Finally, he thought. Also, saying those words out loud made it all very official, and brought a wider smile to his face. 

“Marry you?!” She asked, her eyes opened wide, and she finally released Charlotte’s arms. She looked at Sidney. “You asked her to marry you… and” she turned to Charlotte for confirmation. “And she said yes?” Charlotte nodded and smiled at her. 

“Yes, Mary. Sidney asked me to marry him, and I said ‘yes’.” She was glowing and the confrontation turned instead to a celebration with Mary pulling first Charlotte to her in a tremendous hug. She was trying to wipe away tears as she turned to Sidney, and held him like he was her very own brother. Which only made more of her joyful tears fall.

Distant chatter of rowers approaching made them break apart and smooth clothes and hair and wipe the evidence of tears away. Babington sent Sidney a questioning look that remained unanswered. Crowe was drunk and observed nothing out of the ordinary, but the grim look on Stringer’s face told a tale of a man who was not pleased with the situation - whatever it was. He had contemplated whether to follow Mr. Parker in his pursuit of Charlotte. It would have been the right thing to do. The honorable thing to do. But he feared also a painful thing to do. He did not know what had transpired, but two things were certain. One, he was relieved to see that Mrs. Parker was there. And two, he liked it better when Mr. Parker and Miss Heywood were together and arguing. This scene did not look like a quibble with Mrs. Parker as umpire. Mr. Parker looked too happy and also looked too much at Miss Heywood. Stringer did not like this and scanned the area for Mrs. Campion. He had noticed how she had clung possessively on Mr. Parker’s arm. He did not like her, but surely, she would not let her prize go to someone else? Her presence would be appreciated right now. 

Soon, more of the other rowers were arriving. Tom and Arthur were now there. Stringer saw his friend Fred Robinson approach, and wished that he did not have to talk with him. But he was out of luck at the moment. 

“How did you fare there, James? Was your conversation as substantial as you wanted?” Fred asked. Stringer snorted and walked angrily down to the boats and kicked at a set of oars. Of course, Fred would just not let it go. “That bad, huh? Well, I hope you use it on the river to win, and not let it distract you.” Sensing that they had discussed emotions awkwardly and long enough, he patted his friend on the back and picked up some oars. 

Mary helped Charlotte with regaining her composure by setting her to do tasks with the entrance papers, and checking with the starter to make sure the cannon was ready. Once all the teams were in their boats, they started lining up in their designated positions. Charlotte had returned to find Mary handing her spencer to her to put on, and saying she wanted to wish them luck. Walking closer, Mary called out, “Good luck, the Parkers!” The three brothers waved at her, smiling, and she noticed Sidney looking at his new fiancee with an expression she had never seen him wear before. She could not have been happier for her brother and her dear friend.

Charlotte did not want to leave her friends out, and also called out “Good luck, Mr. Stringer!”

Although it was difficult for him, he responded with a “Thank you, Miss.” He then set his focus to rowing as fast and as hard as he could.

The cannon fired to start the race. The four boats were all manned with two rowers and a coxswain calling out the rhythm to the rowers to work their oars together, and to also control the rudder and keep them going in the right direction. The first two teams to pull away were a visiting group of gentlemen, and Babington and Crowe’s boat also manned with another of their friends. Unfortunately, due to Crowe’s empty flask in his pocket, he was not at his best, and drove the rudder pointing directly at the boat next to them, and into the adjoining bank. The crash was unmistakable to the watching crowd as an ill-judged blunder, But Stringer’s boat and the Parkers were still moving quickly and passed the accident as they continued to race.

Happiness and anger are two very different motivational drivers. Sidney was competitive by nature and pulled hard. He wanted to win for Charlotte. More accurately, he wanted Charlotte to see him win. To be proud of him. To beat Stringer at this too. It was unbecoming and vain, but there it was. Stringer was angry. Mostly with himself, and he was determined to at least beat Mr. Parker at rowing, if nothing else. Logic told him that winning Charlotte’s affection had not been a waiting game, that no matter how he had played it, it didn’t matter if he had been too late, too early or had perfect timing. He was never in the match. But that kind of logic was wasted on a broken heart and a rowing competition. So, he had to be first. If only to convince himself that he could. The two competitors had sized each other up at the starting line with gritted teeth and clenched jaws. And now they were keeping a close eye on each other through the corner of their eyes. 

Mary hooked Charlotte’s arm, they were both filled with joy at the wonderful news that had been shared before the race, and took off running with each other to get to the finish line before the boats did. Running up the hill, to reach the tented area at the finish line, they stumbled back down the hill to find a place near the bank to watch the last race of the Regatta. There was Diana, and Charlotte realized she would be her sister soon, and felt a swell of affection for the kind lady who had welcomed her so easily when she came to Sanditon. Also, Lady Susan was standing nearby, and Charlotte moved toward her with Mary, only to realize a little late that Mrs. Campion was also standing next to Diana. Suddenly she became very protective of her position as Diana’s future sister-in-law, but this was not the time and place for any confrontation.

At least, that had been Charlotte’s thinking. Mrs. Campion, however, had different thoughts. “Miss Heywood,” she said in her clipped, condescending manner, that only Charlotte seemed to notice. Maybe everyone else expected her to behave this way, she thought. It was unnerving, however, when Mrs. Campion leaned toward her in an intimate, friendly way, and said, “I do hope Sidney wins. I never see the point in entering a race unless you win it.” Her smile, and her voice were thick and sweet like molasses, but her eyes were piercing and presumptuous. It took everything Charlotte had not to put this woman in her place. Charlotte was hardly one to hide from a confrontation, and she had been emboldened by her new status as “Sidney’s” Fiancee. To hear Mrs. Campion use his first name so casually was insulting and much too familiar for her comfort.

Mary had been busy watching as the rowers came nearer, and the race was close. Susan had spent more time watching Charlotte and Eliza’s interaction on the bank. She amused herself thinking how easy it would be to “trip” accidentally, placing Eliza squarely in the river. then she admonished herself for thinking of such childish antics, even if they were amusing. She did however notice the change in Charlotte, that she seemed to be standing taller, and took offence at whatever Mrs. Campion was saying, but in a different way. Charlotte suddenly looked more… territorial. That was it. Something had definitely changed. She moved around Mary, and gently pulled Charlotte’s elbow and motioned for her to move closer to her, and out of Eliza’s earshot.

“My dear, what is the matter? You look, well you look almost angry?” Susan inquired. She truly did admire her new friend, and hoped they would find the opportunity to grow their acquaintance. 

Charlotte exhaled, it wasn’t a huff, but it was more than just another breath. “It’s just, Mrs. Campion is too casual with how she refers to Sidney, and I do not approve.”

“My goodness, Charlotte! What has brought about this change?!” Susan exclaimed, but also kept her voice low. The Ton surrounding them were the least trustworthy people she knew.

Charlotte’s expression changed, and her sweet shy smile caused her eyes to drift down before she could speak again. “Susan,” she whispered, and bit her lower lip in anticipation of telling her new friend the news. “Mr. Sidney Parker has just proposed before the race, and I have accepted.” Her voice nearly broke with the excitement of the news building in her chest. “Only Mary Parker knows.” She added.

Susan had clapped her gloved hands together, and placed her finger tips at her lips to help contain her excitement. Whispering back, “Oh my dear, dear girl! I am excited beyond all my own expectations at hearing this glorious news! Too many people marry for the wrong reasons. I am sure that you and Mr. Parker are most certainly marrying for the right one.” Her kind smile matched the glow in her eyes at this momentous news. 

The crowd had grown louder as the racers approached. Adding fuel to the fire of Charlotte’s dwindling patience with Mrs. Campion, Eliza had been cheering from where she stood near the bank. “Come on Sidney! Come on Sidney!” 

Charlotte’s blush from telling Susan the news, was turning into a rage at witnessing the petite blonde yelling for her own fiance to win. She was so engrossed with watching her inappropriate manner, that she almost missed the finish. The Parkers did not win. They had been edged out by Mr Stringer’s boat. It was strange to feel happy that the Parkers had lost, but to see the obvious disappointment on Eliza’s face had been gratifying to Charlotte. Then she wondered how she might look when she found out that her hopes for the race were not the only thing that Eliza had lost that day. She wished she could see it, but knew that would be unlikely, then scolded herself for thinking this way.

Stringer felt good. Not only had he beaten Mr. Sidney Parker at what he considered being his own game - his own idea anyway. But also his irresponsible fool of a brother. It had taken all he had in him, and for a moment he doubted that he would be able to get out of the boat by himself, but the cheering crowd gave him renewed energy. This was a victory for the working man. Won by hard labour and a strong will. 

The small grandstand had been built for the Regatta, and Tom had eagerly requested the favor of Lady Worcester to hand the trophy to the winner of the final race. As the gracious Lady she always was, she had been happy to accept. The racers had disembarked, and had started to receive their congratulations and condolences from their friends and family waiting for them. 

It would not be everyday that James Stringer would hear his name called out by the Prince Regent’s special friend, and he took the honor of being recognized by Lady Worcester as the distinction it was. His father was as proud as he had ever been as he watched the trophy presentation. James was glad for the victory, but it did little to appease his broken heart, knowing that Miss Heywood was lost to him. The crowd had applauded their victory, and he received congratulations from Sidney, with a very respectful handshake. He could not help himself when he responded. “Thank you, but it wasn’t the prize I was hoping for.” He then walked through the crowd toward his father to hand him the victory cup. 

As he worked with his friends to help move his father home on the cart to support his broken leg, he heard Lady Worcester speak again.

“The Parkers may not have won the race this afternoon, but I am most pleased to thank them for a diverting afternoon of sport and recreation.” She smiled and clapped as the crowd clapped with her. “I also have heard that Mr. Sidney Parker has made this an event, one he will never forget.” She gave him a sly smile, and he looked down as he suspected that she had been told the news. He had not expected to face the entire Beau Monde on the announcement of his engagement, but when he looked back up at Susan he knew he had been outranked in that decision. He looked at Charlotte, smiling at her as she stood next to Mary and Arthur. He walked over to her, and linked her arm around his before looking back at Susan. 

She understood his meaning. “It is with the greatest of pleasure, that I am able to announce the engagement of Mr. Sidney Parker, to my dear friend, Miss Charlotte Heywood!” The eruption from the crowd was what you would expect at hearing this joyous news. Announced by such a great lady, to cap off the day's events, and to recognize this young woman who was soon to be joining their ranks in society. Susan had been introducing Charlotte to the most important people there, all afternoon. The understanding of this great honor was lost on no one. Least of all with Eliza Campion. Even Mr. James Stringer had managed a closed grin and had clapped for his friend, and the man who was the business partner and brother of his employer. 

Eliza had been the only one not clapping or cheering. She had barely been breathing when she had seen him move over to that young chit of a country girl. How had this happened? It seemed not only unlikely, but impossible! The announcement from Lady Susan was a nail through her cold heart. Everything that announcement had implied, also meant that she would never be able to escape the new couple whenever they were in London. Unless she left London herself. She looked over the crowd, trying to find the friends who had traveled with her, but they were not nearby, and she was too short to see over the rest of the crowd. She had placed herself near the front, hoping to console Sidney on his loss, but instead she had given herself a front row seat to his engagement announcement. To someone else! 

She was trying to move past the crowd, to find a way to leave, when she heard Lady Susan calling her name. “Mrs. Campion?” She straightened her back and held her chin up before she turned with her icy smile to acknowledge Lady Worcester as she was walking toward her. “I do hope you are not leaving. There is a ball tomorrow night, and I’m sure the celebration will be quite merry with the good news announced today.” Susan was gleefully smiling at the social victory. “Many of us will be staying to celebrate with the Parkers, and of course, the future Mrs. Parker.” She knew it was a little much, but she could not resist setting down the insipid, cruel woman.

“No. I am expected back in London.” She said simply and decidedly. Coming up with an excuse on the spot, “I am expected for fittings with my Modiste.” No better excuse than new gowns, she thought.

“Oh, of course, one cannot keep their Modiste waiting. I wish you the best of luck, Mrs. Campion.” Eliza smiled and nodded, but before she could leave, Susan said in a low voice. “I would check their work more carefully, Mrs Campion, if I were you. Your buttons are quite ill-matched!” She smiled, she had been wanting to say something about the crooked placement of the buttons on her Pelisse all day! 

Eliza fumed at the words Lady Worcester had said, and narrowed her eyes. “Good day, Lady Worcester!” She quickly bobbed her curtsy in farewell and turned on her heel, marching off to find her carriage. Her friends could find their own ride back to London if they were not there and ready to leave, she thought indignantly. 

Sidney and Charlotte got separated in the turmoil following both the announcement and the spectators leaving the river bank. Words still needed to be said. Kisses and congratulations bestowed. He looked for her everywhere but she was nowhere to be seen. This happiness was still so new and fragile that it could lose its grip and vanish into thin air. He needed her close, preferably in his arms to ground himself, and trust that this impulsive but no less true proposal had happened. That she had said yes. 

He found her by the starting line, clearing things away. Of course she was. _His_ Charlotte would never leave a task unfinished. He should have known. “Do you need a hand, Miss Heywood?” She spun around at the sound of his voice and the smile she gave him made him forget about everything and everyone else. Unable to resist her, he pulled her in close and kissed her. “I have to remember to thank Lady Susan for outing us. With everyone knowing, there is no turning back on me now, darling Charlotte.”

Her face lit up in the most beautiful smile he had seen from her yet. “It still seems so unreal to me, Mr. Parker.” He kissed her again. 

“Sidney, please…I hope you don’t have any second thoughts, Charlotte?” There was a sudden seriousness in his eyes. 

“None at all, Sidney. I just find it hard to grasp how we came from fighting all the time to this. There was no transition. I’ve been expecting to have my heart broken since you went to her, at Mrs. Maudsley’s ball. Which is painfully ironic because it was also there I realized… that I loved you.” Her cheeks blushed.

“Walk with me, Charlotte. Let us sort out any misunderstandings between us.” He took her hand and kissed the back of it, as they slowly started strolling along the river bank. “I have no excuse for leaving you like that. I knew too. I found it unlikely that you would reciprocate my feelings after the way I had treated you. Eliza...Mrs. Campion, she caught me more off guard than I care to admit. When I talked to her, it felt nice but all I could think about was you. When Tom invited her to be our guest at the regatta. My guest. I got caught in the middle.” Another soft kiss was placed in her palm. His lips lingered. Her heart beat faster.

“I have admired you from the first day I met you but I did not care for the way you made me feel. The way you stirred the embers in my solitary heart. It was best to push you away, but we both know that was not a very successful strategy. The more I tried to avoid you, the more you seemed to pop up in the most unexpected places. I believe that the incident in the cove demonstrated that quite impressively.” 

His voice was teasing but his eyes were serious. So were hers. “I think it would be best, if you stop talking and kiss me again… Sidney.”


End file.
